Nightmare Fuel October 2012, Day 5
They called the monster ‘the suicide box’.
“Just burn it down. Don’t talk to it.”
The suicide box was hardly big enough to sit in. It had no legs or wings or anything else that moved when it shouldn’t. A warning label said ‘will trap you in it with what you’re afraid of most’. Gus looked at the chair there and sat down in the chair, sweat breaking in his forehead, matches right there in his hands. A gust of wind and the door was shut. It was dark but he could make his own light. He opened his eyes.